The Charm
by hopeAndDreams
Summary: Set PostAsylum I know, I know...this is yet another one. Inspired by promos for next show, so kind of spoilery. First fan fiction ever, so please be kind...
1. Chapter 1: The Hurt

Standard Disclaimers Apply

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The journey back to the motel was quiet. Dean did not even turn on the music in the car. He knew that even the music that normally would silence the thoughts raging in his head would not work this time. He could not stop hearing the words that his brother had said to him in that basement…could not help but see the truth in them. They were no closer to finding their dad today than they were when they had driven out of Stanford. Dean had followed his dad's orders, followed the co-ordinates without question, because he had wanted to believe that they were leading them closer to finding him. Maybe that made him pathetic, trying to bring together a family that was so determined to stay apart. For four years now, Sam, his dad and Dean had not spent a single minute together. And that was the only thing Dean wanted…to see his family together one more time. Because he knew that time was running out for him.

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Getting out of the car, Sam watched as Dean bent to lock the door. He paled when he saw the tiny blots of blood on his big brother's t-shirt, but what bothered him more was the quiet pain in Dean's eyes that had nothing to do with the any physical wound. He wished that he would at least see some sign of the anger that was directed at him outside the asylum, wished that Dean would turn around and punch him for all the awful things he had said, for pulling the trigger on that gun, but it appeared that he was going to be denied that solace as well. Sighing, Sam trudged up the stairs to their room, hoping that he would find the right words to piece together what he had broken in his brother.

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Dean walked into the room, threw the duffel bag on the floor and continued on towards the bathroom. The pain in his chest was finally starting to register and he knew he had to take care of it. He shut the door behind him to ensure that Sam would not see him tending to his wounds. Dean knew that his baby brother was blaming himself for everything that happened, and that Dean's silence had only made him feel worse. Dean chastised himself for taking out his anger on Sam…he did not blame Sam, he knew Sam's feelings had been manipulated by Dr. Ellicott's spirit. But Dean also knew that those feelings were his brothers, knew that what he had wished for when he went to fetch his little brother was a quickly fading dream. Dean looked up into the mirror and saw in his own eyes the defeat he felt...he had not, and could not bridge the gap between his brother and him. Dean felt his emotions about to spiral out of control as his eyes started to glisten and willed himself to stop thinking.

Instead he took care of the bodily hurt. The bruises were slowing turning into the nasty shade of blue. Well, at least nothing was broken as far as he could tell. After cleaning out the rock salt and blood from his wounds, he carefully wrapped them in gauze and popped a couple of pills to keep the pain at bay. He knew the pills would make him groggy, dull his reflexes, but he did not want Sam to hear him groaning as he tried to sleep through the night. His brother had been through enough today. Dean pulled his t-shirt back on, walked out the door and slipped under the covers. The tight lid he was holding on his emotions threatened to blow as an image of the last night of his short, normal life flashed before him. An image of him leaning over his brother's crib, his mother at his side, his father at the door. Closing his eyes, thinking of that moment, he whispered, "Good night, Sammy."

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Sam had been sitting on the bed, watching the door of the bathroom, listening to his brother tending to his wounds…wounds that Sam had caused. He wanted to get up and help, but he knew his brother would refuse. Dean could be a real stubborn ass when it came to taking care of himself…he had not let Sam help him dress the wounds on his abdomen where the Wendigo had left his claw prints…cuts that he had kept hidden from the EMT personnel as well. Even when he was younger, Sam remembered Dean hiding his injuries from his dad, choosing to take of them himself. But if Sam so much as had a scratch on him, Dean would fuss over it like a mother hen. Sam smiled involuntarily at the thought, knowing how mad it would make Dean to be compared to a hen…he would have remember to rag Dean about it later…when things between them were back to normal again. Normal…he wondered if that was ever possible again. Had Sam destroyed their relationship forever? He knew he had hurt his brother before, when he left home, but that was nothing compared to shooting him. Would Dean ever forgive him for that?

Sam was jerked out of his thoughts as he heard the bathroom door opening. He noticed the stiffness in his brother's gait, knew that his chest was still hurting him bad, though Dean would never admit it.When Dean got into bed, Sam rose to walk towards the bathroom.As he put his hand on the handle,he heard his brothermurmur quietly, "Good night Sammy." Sam stopped at the sound, something about the way the words sounded scared Sam. He heard adeep sadness in his brother's voice, something that he had only heard once before, when Dean had talked about their mom. It was uncanny how Sam could read so much of what his brother was feeling from just those two words. Sam turned and started to walk over towards his brother, wanting to make this right, knowing full well that the only thing he would probably get in return would be a smartass remark about the dreaded chick-flick moments. But Dean's eyes were already closed, the exhaustion from the day's events had taken over, and Sam suspected that whatever pills Dean had swallowed were already at work. So, instead he promised himself that he would talk to Dean in the morning and would not accept "It's no big deal" as an answer again.


	2. Chapter 2: Call from Dad

Ok...here is the second chapter...hope you guys like it. Slightly different format from Chapter 1 - more conversation in this one. Thank you tomygirl, Gertrude-04 and KatieMalfoy19 for your reviews, I really appreciate the feedback. I am working on the last chapter...should be up before the new episode airs.

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Standard Disclaimers Apply

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Sam had closed his eyes, but was unable to get any sleep. His kept seeing images of the asylum, and what would have happened if the gun Dean had given him had been loaded. Finally giving up on any hope of sleep he lay in bed staring at the ceiling. His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden ringing of his brother's phone. Unwilling to deal with whoever was at the other end, he called out tiredly, hoping to wake his brother, "Dean…" 

With the phone continuing to ring and his brother showing no signs of waking up, Sam reached over and looked at the caller id "410-555-8432". He flipped open the phone and was about to say hello, when he heard the caller speak,

"Dean?"

Sam shot upright, recognizing instantly the voice he had not heard for more than four years.

"DAD?"

"Sam?"

"Dad, where are you? Are you ok? Dean and I have been looking for you all over! Why haven't you called? Where have you been?"

"…am fine…talk…Dean…he ok?"

He could not hear what his father was saying,the static on the on the line was terrible, but Sam had to tell his father what had happened at Stanford.

"Jess was killed, Dad, just like Mom, I need you to tell me what is going on"

"This…bigger…you think…eed time…figure…"

"Dad? Please tell me where you are."

Sam's voice broke as pleaded with his father and all the emotions that he had held inside for the last six months came flooding out. As he caved in on himself, Sam felt the phone being taken away from him.

* * *

Dean had awoken with a start when he had heard Sam yelling. At first he had thought that perhaps Sam had had another nightmare, but it was not Jess' name he had heard him yell. As the conversation Sam was having registered, he rose quickly from his bed,adrenaline rushing through his veins. When he saw the tears start to fall and Sam lean over, losing his grip on the phone, Dean dreaded the worst and reached over to take the phone away from his baby brother. 

"Dad? It's Dean. Are you ok? Where are you?"

"…ean…m all right…don't worry…need time…listen…want you…go to…Waldorn, Arkansas…amiliar…deaths…"

"Dad? Dad?"

But the line had gone dead. The only thing he could hear was static. He tried to call the number back, desperate to hear his father's voice again, but it would not connect. He figured the call had come from a phone booth and figured he would try his father's cell phone. After a couple of rings, he shut the phone in frustration when he heard the familiar message come on. At least now he knew his father was ok, though still unwilling to reveal anything about what he was hunting. Dean looked over at his baby brother, who had finally gotten control of his tears. As Sam looked up, Dean could see the anger mingled with the hurt in his brother's eyes.

"Dean, did he tell you where he was?"

"He wants us to go to Waldorn, Arkansas."

"But that is not where he is, is it? That call came from Maryland. He is sending us on another job, isn't he?"

Sam practically spat the last few words out. He could not believe after not talking to them for six months, six months spent worrying if he was hurt or worse, dead, that their father had called to send them on another hunt.

"Sammy, maybe…"

"Maybe what? Dad is going to meet us there? Just like you thought he was going to meet us here? You know he isn't going to be there, Dean."

Dean knew that Sam was right. That their father was sending them on another hunt, by themselves.He had realized that the only reason his dad had called was to let them know he was ok, so that they would not worry. But he also understood that his father did not want to be found. And when John Winchester wanted to disappear, he left no trail to follow. Even for his sons. Dean only hoped that he would still be around when his dad finally decided to see them again. For now, the only thing Dean could do to get his mind off thinking about his current situation was to continue hunting. Try to find and destroy the witch and her familiar that were killing people in Waldron.

He sighed and looked up at his brother.

"Sam, I know he might not be there.But, right now I have nothing else to go now…and I am not driving to Maryland to roam the streets calling his name. I just got out of one asylum, I'll be damned if someone locks me up in another one. At least in Waldorn, I might...be able to save some lives."

_Even if I can't save my own_, he thought silently.

Sam stared at his brother. Saw the outline of the gauze against his t-shirt and was reminded of what happened on the last hunt their father sent them on. He also remembered following the co-ordinates to Blackwater Ridge and the scars that left on Dean. He was not going to watch his brother get hurt again.

"NO. No, I am not going."

Dean heard the defiance in Sam's voice. He had realized the previous night, after all that his brother had said to him in the asylum, that this moment was coming. When Sam would want to leave. And he would not be able to keep him. He had just not expected it to be so soon. And he had already decided that he would not fight him, would not try to keep Sam tied to him and the dangers of hunting. He had had his chance to repair their relationship, but had driven his little brother away. Again.

"Fine, but I am still going to go."

Sam looked up at his brother, shocked that he would be so willing to leave him. But what else could he expect,he had **shot** Dean in the chest last night. And maybe, it would be safer for Dean without Sam and his evil attracting "shining". Sam could not bear to say anything more to his brother, so he sat there silently and stared down at his hands. He knew he could not fix this, he had hurt his brother too badly.

When Sam did not protest his leaving, Dean got up, pulled on his jeans, and walked over to grab his duffel bag from next to Sam's backpack on the table. As he picked up his keys from the desk, he said, "I'm going to take off", and wished that Sam would stop him.

But Sam's only reply was, "That's what I want you to do."

And with that, Dean turned to the door, and walked out to his car.


	3. Chapter 3: The Charm

Thank you again for all the positive reviews! I really appreciate them, Nate And Jake, KatieMalfoy19 and tomygirl. I know I said that Chapter 3 would be my last chapter...but this story seems to have taken on a life of its own. I am working on the last one and I promise it will be up before the new episode airs on Tuesday.

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Standard Disclaimers Apply. I wish I owned Sam and Dean, but I am not that lucky.

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As soon as the words had left his mouth, Sam regretted them. And this time he could not blame a psychopathic doctor's spirit for the way his brother's shoulders had slumped before he walked out the door. Sam silently cursed his father again. Even though he had seen his father do it for 18 years, he could not believe that at this point, after all that had happened with Jess, and in Lawrence, that he had called to push his sons into another hunt. The single-minded determination that drove John Winchester was something that his youngest son would never understand, and never wanted to understand.

Finally, after looking at the room door for more than an hour, hoping against hope that his brother walk back in, Sam rose from the bed and walked over to the restroom. After splashing cold water in his face, he put on his jeans, pulled his grey Stanford sweatshirt on, and tried to decide where to go. For the last six months, he had followed wherever his brother had led them, hunting whatever evil things they could find along the way to finding their father. But with Dean gone, he felt rudderless, lost, and without a purpose.

No point hanging around the motel room anyway, he told himself and reached over to pick up his backpack. Something clattered to the ground as swung his bag over the shoulder. Sam looked down at the floor and his eyes opened wide. There, lying on the ground was the chain with the silver charm that he had only seen around Dean's neck. He remembered how it was the only thing that his big brother had pulled off from the shape-shifter after killing him. He had known then that the charm was almost as dear to Dean as the Impala he drove.

But Dean had left it behind for Sam, left it to protect his little brother. Tears clouded Sam's vision as he rose and rushed out the door. He knew he had to find his big brother.

* * *

As Dean walked towards his car, he paused for a second before opening the door, and looked back at the room he had just come out of. He hoped that he would see the lanky form of his brother following him, but the door remained obstinately closed. Shaking his head, almost as if that physical action would cause the thoughts in his head to fall out, he turned to his car, and said, "Guess it's just you and me again." 

He gingerly got behind the wheel of his Impala and roared out of the parking lot. Within a few minutes, with the effect of painkillers he had taken only a couple of hours ago wearing off, the effort required to sit up and drive almost seemed too much. Every breath brought with it a stabbing pain to his bruised chest. Dean cursed as he remembered that he had left all his pills and the first-aid kit in the bathroom of the motel.

Dean looked ahead and saw the gas station a mile up. The effort of driving even for thirty minutes seemed to have taken a toll on his body. He got out of the car slowly, used the support of the door to pull himself up before walking towards the store. The pain was not nearly this bad last night. Dean gritted his teeth and tried not to gasp. As he walked toward the store, it was steadily becoming harder to stay upright. His breaths were coming fast and shallow. Dean could feel the sweat on his forehead. He leaned on the wall next to the entrance of the Tiger-Mart and tried to take a deep breath. Instead the effort threw him into a coughing spasm. Unable to find anything else to support him he slid down the wall. The realization that he was coughing up tiny amounts of blood and was incapable of standing up scared him a little.

"This is just great," he thought. "Not even 45 minutes on my own, and here I am slumped on the floor."

And then he remembered the last time he was alone...in New Orleans.

_I didn't do much better there too._

Sure, he had killed the rogue voodoo cult priest who was killing innocent children, but not before he was hit by the curse. He thought he would have died instantly when the spark had hit him, but its effect was muted because it was cast while the priest's life energy was ebbing. Dean had known then that he could not escape its effects once it had hit him. You can not fight a curse, only get out of its way…which he had not been fast enough to do. He had searched in vain for a cure but the other priests had only confirmed his fear. They had predicted that it would be only a couple of months before the hex's poison spread throughout his body and caused it to shut down. But they had tried to prolong his time by blessing the protection charm that he wore around his neck. They hoped they had given him a few more months…a little more time…time that he had wanted to spend with his family.

_But instead I managed to drive them even further away_.

Dean realized how strongly the charm had been protecting him as the curse quickly attacked his already weakened body.

_At least now it is protecting Sammy. _

That was the last thought that he had, before he lost consciousness.


	4. Chapter 4: Sam Finds Out

I know I said I would finish this story before the new episodes started, but work got in the way…you know the thing that pays for my TV and cable so I can watch Supernatural :-)

But here it is – the completed story. Hope you like it.

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Thank you tomygirl for your reviews – I don't mean to make you cry, it is all Sam and Dean's fault :-)

And thank you to my new reviewers, tracer2032, Ghostwriter and tvbatina – I really appreciate the positive feed back.

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Standard Disclaimers Apply

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When Sam reached the road outside the motel, he took a couple of deep breaths and slowed his pace to a walk. He had been walking for about fifteen minutes when he heard someone call out his name.

"Sam?"

He turned around and was surprised to see a car had pulled up behind him. At the wheel sat Kat, the girl that he and Dean had rescued from the asylum the previous day.

"Do you need a ride somewhere?"

Sam hesitated for a second, but he knew he would be able to reduce the distance between Dean and him if he was in a car.

"Only if it not too much trouble. Just until the highway."

"Sure, no problem. I was going to see Gavin, but after last night, I think a little longer wait will do him some good."

Sam opened the door and got in.

"So, where is Dean? Is he working on another…job?" she asked tentatively, not exactly sure how ghost-hunters worked.

"Sort of…"

"And you didn't go with him? I thought you were partners, that you worked together."

_Dean probably thought we were a team too_, Sam thought guiltily. Trying to hold back his emotions, Sam said,

"He went ahead, I am following him."

Sam then turned his head to look out the window. Seeing the look in his eyes, Kat knew she had said something wrong. She decided to leave him alone with his thoughts as she drove. As he blindly watched the passing streets, Sam tried to figure out what he would to his big brother when he found him. How could he apologize for shooting him, and the things he had said to drive him away?

_Take it one step at a time_, he told himself. _First I have to find him._

A flash of black at the passing gas station caught his attention.

"STOP!"

Kat slammed on her brakes and looked around. She could not see what had caused Sam to yell out. The thought then crossed her mind that perhaps he had screamed because of something she was not meant to see. After the adventures of last night, Kat could now imagine ghosts were wandering around each corner. She looked over, trying to find reassurance in Sam, but he had already left the car and was running towards the gas station. It was then that she noticed the black Impala parked in front of the store. Kat pulled into the station just as Sam rushed into the store looking for his brother. He did not notice the stains of blood on the ground outside the door.

Quickly scanning the inside of the mart Sam knew Dean was not in there. Something was wrong. Dean would never abandon his car - it was his baby. He turned towards the lady behind the counter.

"Excuse me, but I am looking for my brother. His car is parked outside…the black Impala, but I can't seem to find him."

The kindly old lady looked up at Sam. Something in her eyes made him fear what she was about to say next.

"Oh, oh dear. Was that your brother? Blonde hair? About 6 feet?"

Sam could feel himself start to panic. Alarm bells were ringing in his head.

"He collapsed outside. I called the paramedics, they took him to the hospital…"

Sam could not hear what the lady was saying anymore. Hospital? Sam had put his big brother in the hospital. He had shot him full of rock salt, and had made him leave before he even had a chance to get a full night's sleep. Hot tears started flowing down his cheeks as he headed out the door. He almost collided with Kat as she was entering. One look at Sam's face, and she knew something horrible had happened.

"Sam? What's wrong?"

"I need to get to the hospital. Dean…"

Sam could not even get himself to say out loud that Dean was hurt. Because if he did, then this crazy situation would be real, and not just a bad nightmare that he was having. Kat lead Sam back to her car and drove to the hospital. Sam's tears did not abate the entire way and he had even given up trying to wipe them away. Sam had failed his brother. After all the years that Dean had taken care of him, and all times that Dean had risked his life to protect him, Sam had repaid his love by shooting him.

"I am sure he'll be ok."

Sam wanted to believe her words, but he knew that his big brother was not someone who easily succumbed to his wounds. If Dean was in the hospital, it was bad, really bad. As they approached the hospital, Sam was out of the car and inside the ER even before Kat had a chance to stop the car.

Attempting to wipe the tears from his eyes one more time, he ran up to the reception desk.

"I am looking for my brother. He was brought in here a little while ago…they said he had colla…collapsed at the gas station."

The words came out in a rush, and Sam was not sure the nurse was able to follow what he had said. She looked up and her eyes softened when she saw the very scared-looking young man in front of her.

"What is your name?"

"Sam, Sam Winchester. And my brother is Dean."

"I don't have a Dean Winchester listed. But we did have a young man brought in. I think the call came from a store nearby. He was unconscious and we could not identify him. About twenty-four years old, blonde hair?"

"Yes, that's my brother. Where is he? Is he ok?"

"He was taken upstairs to surgery. Second floor. I think he is in post-op right now. Ask for Dr. Richardson."

Sam mumbled a thank you and ran towards the stairs. He did not have the patience to wait for the elevator. He reached the top and headed to yet another reception desk.

"My name is Sam Winchester. My brother was brought in here a little while ago. They told me that you did not have his name, but he was brought up here for surgery. The nurse downstairs told me to ask for Dr. Richardson."

"One minute. Let me call the doctor."

Sam waited and listened as the nurse called and explained that the brother of the boy he had operated on was here and gave the doctor his name.

"His office is just around the corner. Take a left at the end of the hallway. Third door on the right. He will be waiting for you."

When Sam turned the corner of the hallway, he saw that the doctor was waiting at the door for him. Dr. Richardson looked more like a kind grandfather than a surgeon. He motioned towards Sam and invited him into his office.

"Dr. Richardson, how is my brother? Is he ok?"

"Mr. Winchester, your brother is in a stable right now. But his condition is still critical. If you would please have a seat, I need to ask you a few questions about your brother's medical history."

Sam sat in a chair across from the doctor. He could not understand what was going on. Dean was in critical condition? He thought the shotgun had left bruises and perhaps even broken ribs, but Dean knew how to take care of those. Had he not bandaged them right, had one of the ribs punctured his lung?

_I should have helped him take care of his wounds last night. I should not have Dean be stubborn and do it himself. _

Even though he knew Dean would not have accepted his help. His brother had always been strong, been able to tend to his own wounds. But Dean was upset last night, and maybe he had not been careful, had not bandaged himself properly. Sam's feelings of guilt deepened as he thought about the asylum again.

"Mr. Winchester…"

"Please call me Sam."

"Ok. Sam. Do you know why your brother was brought in here?"

_Yes. I shot him. _

Sam knew he could not tell the doctor the truth, he could not have the police get involved. His brother was supposed to be legally dead. In his panic Sam had not thought to give a fake name. He berated himself again, Winchesters were taught not to panic. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself enough to look the doctor in the eye and lie.

"No. I don't. I did not know he was hurt until I was told he was in the hospital."

"When your brother was brought in here, he was having trouble breathing. There was a large amount of blood in his lungs. He also had some bruising on his chest. But those bruises were superficial, they did not explain how he had ruptured major blood vessels. We tried to surgically repair the damage, and we have managed to stem the bleeding from the major arteries for now, but we have been unable to determine what caused it. He still has minor internal bleeding, that we cannot control. We were hoping if we could find the cause of his condition, it would help us treat him…because it is only a matter of time before another vein deteriorates."

"I don't understand. You can't stop the bleeding? But…how is that possible?"

"I wish I could give you answer, Sam. But we have never seen anything like this before. For lack of a better description, it is like the blood vessels in his body are all slowly disintegrating. I tried to research the symptoms and have found one other instance of something like this somewhere in Louisiana, but there was no listed cure, or remedy. His condition is a medical mystery. We are trying to do our best to help, but I am not going to give you false hope. His prognosis is not good. Do you have any information about your brother that might help us find an explanation?"

Sam felt like his heart had stopped. Like he could not breathe. His brother was dying, and there was nothing the doctors could do. Dean had some freak medical condition, and there was no cure. Suddenly, his brother's words echoed in his head,

"_How many times in dad's long and varied career has it actually been some freak medical thing?"_

Something clicked in Sam's head. The doctor had talked about another case in Louisiana.

"_I was working my own gig. This voodoo thing down in New Orleans."_

Something had happened to Dean there. He knew it. That's why Dean had come to ask for Sam's help to find dad. But that meant his brother had not found a way to fight it. Dean had given up. His big brother had come to Sam to say goodbye. As he thought back on the last six months he had spent with his brother, hunting, arguing, and doing a thousand other stupid things instead of looking for a way to save him, Sam felt his mountain of guilt suppressing him. How could he have been so blind? And why hadn't Dean told him?

_Because I had just lost Jessica, and he did not want me to worry about him. Damn it, when was Dean going to stop protecting me? But I am not going to let him die. I could not save Jessica, but I will save my big brother. _

Sam was going to find a way to fix whatever curse lay upon his brother. He was not going to lose the only person who had always been there for him. He would not let Dean give up. He looked up at the doctor, who was watching Sam with concern.

"Can I see my brother?"

"He is still sedated. But he should wake up in a couple of hours. They should have moved him to room 303. You can see him there."

Sam rose and headed for the door.

"Sam, are you ok?"

"I'm fine. My brother is not going to die. I won't let him."

And with those words, he left the room.


	5. Chapter 5: Acceptance

Standard Disclaimers Apply

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Sam walked wearily to the third floor. His mind was in turmoil. He had to talk to Dean and find out what supernatural being had caused his condition. Then he could figure out how to fight it. Find the cure. Save his brother. And this time, he could not fail. 

Even though Sam knew that Dean's condition was bad, he was not prepared for the way his brother looked on the hospital bed. His skin was so pale Sam could not imagine that his brother still had blood to lose. His eyes looked sunken and there were lines of pain etched on his face. Dean looked so vulnerable that Sam felt a strong urge to reach over and hold his brother, and shield him from the evil that was attacking his body. And the thought scared him. Dean never looked weak, he was always the one who held Sam and chased away his fears. He was the protector, not Sam.

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out the talisman that Dean had left for him.

"Even when I drove you away, you tried to protect me by giving me this. But I am never going to need anything other than you to keep me safe. And you are not going anywhere, " he whispered as he slipped the leather strap over his brother's head.

Sam sat down and watched as Dean slept. He reached out and held his hand, and let the tears brimming in his eyes spill over. He felt exhausted and drained from all the events of the day.

Dean opened his eyes slowly. Every part of him hurt and it seemed like an effort even to lift his eyelids. He beeping of the machines in his room told him that he was in the hospital. Something shaggy seemed to be resting on his hand. Once his eyes adjusted to being open, he looked down to see his brother's brown mop of hair.

"Sammy?"

Sam's shot up when he heard his brother's raspy voice. His head hit the side railing of the bed.

"Whoa there, tiger. Take it easy. Six months of hunting and your reflexes are in overdrive."

"Dean? You're awake."

"Your observational skills are top-notch too."

Dean flashed his cocky grin at his little brother. He was so glad to see Sam he had forgotten all about everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours. But then he saw his brother's red-rimmed eyes and the pain in them. Sam knew. Dean sighed and looked away. He was the reason for the hurt apparent on his brother's face.

Sam reached over and turned his brother's head so he could look him in the eye.

"Dean, why didn't you tell me?"

"Wasn't much to tell. I was too slow getting out of the way of a curse."

"And that's it? You are going to give up just like that?"

"Sam, it's a curse. You can't fight it, once it is cast, you can't turn it back."

"No, Dean, there has to be something we can do. And I am going to find it. I am not going to lose you. You are the only person I have left. Jess is dead and Dad does not want to be found. I will find a cure."

The tears were pouring down Sam's face. It broke Dean's heart to see his brother in so much pain. But he had to make Sam understand, there was nothing they could do. Dean did not want to be one more reason for Sam's guilt. His little brother had enough of that.

"There is no cure, Sam. I have looked, trust me. I am going to die and you can't stop it."

"No! Don't say that. Dean, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I said at the asylum, I'm sorry for leaving you and going to Stanford. I'm sorry for not being there for you. I love you… please, please don't leave me."

"Sammy, stop. You don't have to apologize for any of those things. I wanted you to go to Stanford. I wanted you to have a chance at a normal life. And you were always there for me, little bro. I know you were. And…I love you, too. And I am proud of you Sam, I want you to remember that. Otherwise you are going to make me come back from the dead and remind you. Then, the shotgun with the salt will really hurt."

When Sam did not crack a smile, Dean's tone grew serious again.

"Sam, I mean it. I know how much this is hurting you right now. And if there was anything I could do to make it stop hurting, I would. But I can't.So, I need you to be strong, and I need you to be ok."

Sam looked up into his brother's hazel eyes. He knew Dean had meant every word he said. But it did not make the pain subside. He still could not accept that he was going to lose Dean. But if his brother wanted him to be strong, he would try to be strong. But he knew he would never be ok, never be fine. How could he? Dean was what made him ok. When he was young, it was Dean who tended to the boo-boos and make things ok. When he fought with his dad, it was Dean who patched things up and made it fine again. When he needed to study, it was Dean who convinced their father to give him a break from the training and hunting. When he got into Standford, it was Dean who drove him there and told him things would be fine. When Jessica died, it was Dean who had pulled him out of the fire. When the nightmares came, it was Dean who had comforted him. Whenever he had fallen, it was Dean who had picked him up. Now Dean needed Sam to say that he would be alright without his big brother, and so he would lie. He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked away.

"I will be."

Dean knew his brother was lying, but he also knew that Sam had accepted what Dean was saying. He still had time to try to fix the rest and make sure that Sam would be fine.

"Good. Now can you go andcall one of the nurses, all this emotion is making me feel light-headed."

Sam shot Dean a concerned look, but seeing the smile playing on his brother's lips he knew that this was Dean's way out of the "chick-flick" moment.

"And Sammy…"

"Yes?"

"Make sure it is one of the cute nurses."

As Sam walked out of the room, Dean looked down at the charm that hung again from his neck, and finally let the tears fall.

---THE END---


End file.
